


brother

by emmaofmisthaven



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7120171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaofmisthaven/pseuds/emmaofmisthaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He shows up at the funeral.</p>
            </blockquote>





	brother

**Author's Note:**

> My last Pacific Rim fic was in November 2013 but holy shit dudes! I can't believe the news!!!
> 
> Definitely team "John Boyega is Mako's brother" so have a drabble. Feel free to imagine him as older or younger, I haven't decided yet. Mostly I've been too excited to think about the details yet
> 
> (mention of Maleigh, but can be read as platonic, probably)

He shows up at the funeral.

The casket is empty, as was Chuck’s, as were the Kaidonovskys’, as were the Tang Wei’s – and so is Mako’s heart. She holds Raleigh’s hand, because it’s the only thing that makes sense in a world where the war is over, in a world where her father got killed in combat. Raleigh is the only one who makes sense now, the only one who can really understand what she is going through.

So she holds his hand, staring at the empty casket with tears that will never shed, and that’s when he shows up. Just at the corner of her eye, like a ghost from the past, like the ghost of his father. He hasn’t changed much – older yes, and his shoulders are a little broader, but still the same. Still the boy who introduced her to American comics, still the boy who learnt Japanese for her, still the angry boy turned brother.

Her hand squeezes Raleigh’s, tighter than before, and he shifts a little by her side as if trying to understand her trouble. He’s been watching her like a hawk for days now, waiting for her to break down, so perhaps he thinks this is finally it. He couldn’t be more wrong. Or, at least, she’s going to break down, maybe, but in a way she hadn’t expected. In a way nobody had seen coming.

She squeezes his hand and then let go, moving away from him and closer to Duke. Her brother is staring back at her, not moving, not – there is something in his eyes that Mako can’t read, not anymore. They were good at this, before, reading each other’s mind and joking about drift compatibility. Now he’s barely more than a stranger, and she can’t even blame him. Flight or fight. They both chose their side.

“Duke…” she starts, nothing more than a whisper.

People are watching, she knows, but people always do. People always gossip, too, and soon he will be the talk of the whole Shatterdome, the son only coming back to bury his father. Mako doesn’t care – she learnt not to care a long time ago, steel around her heart just as solid as that of her father’s swords.

“Mako,” he replies.

Just one word, just her name.

His voice is deep with the sorrow that now shines in his eyes, when he glances at the casket, when he swallows around the knot in his throat. He licks his lips, hands in his pockets, and Mako is reminded of the boy who would take the fall for her when she would break something, or forget to close the fridge’s door, or eat the last cookie. He was good at this, holding the weight of the world on his shoulders – the Pentecosts were all good at this.

“I – I’m sorry.”

Mako has never been a tactile person. But every rule has its exceptions, so she moves forward and wraps her arms around him. He isn’t that much taller than her, the perfect height to rest her chin on his shoulder and sigh. And then Duke hugs her back, tight enough to mend the broken part of her heart. Because her father might be dead, but if her brother is here, then.

Then nothing can go wrong.


End file.
